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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639388">I just wanted you to know that, baby, you're the best</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashiHimee/pseuds/HashiHimee'>HashiHimee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossdressing, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hashi and Mads are Good uncles (TM), I don't really know (?), M/M, Modern Era, Parent Madara, They're dads now, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, parent hashirama, trans male Hashirama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:07:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashiHimee/pseuds/HashiHimee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hashirama and Madara’s love life in 30 shots.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Minor or Background Relationship(s), Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Pinkies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi there everybody!</p><p>I’m back with my shit: another 30 drabbles about Hashi and Mads. I plan to post one each day for a month, so we’ll be done on the 22nd of March! (I think.)<br/>The shots are already written, all 30 of them (mind you!), just undergoing some form of fixing and minor editing; they are in no way – NO WAY – following Hashi and Mads’s story in chronological order but they’re simply snippets of their life together. However, it’s safe to say that Hashi and Mads are around 32 years old in most of the snippets, unless explicitly specified. </p><p>This said, I hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as I did writing all those little moments.</p><p>I’m a little gremlin and I live for your comments so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me leaving a comment below!</p><p>Hope you’re doing well all around the globe but please, still be careful! Wear your mask and, please, do social distancing, for your own safety and that of others’!</p><p>Until next time,</p><p>-Hh</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>They didn’t usually hold hands: when they went for a walk in the park or through the busy streets they simply stayed side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders, or Madara rested one arm on his waist to keep him flush by his side.</p>
<p>Hashirama liked it that way: he was happy and, truthfully, he preferred having his hands free because sometimes the sweat gathered on his palms gave him some trouble; he thought that the reason why Madara actually never held his hand was to avoid making him uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Recently, they had taken on the habit of sitting on a bench in the tree’s shadow in one of the city parks with their pinkies intertwined: that was one of the smallest gesture, the smallest point of contact, but Hashirama found it utterly adorable.</p>
<p>Ways better than holding hands in his book.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Blankets' burrito</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Madara simply wasn’t one to cuddle but even he couldn’t hold his ground against the look on Hashirama’s face, hopeful and puppy looking, when he set up the movie and then waited holding the blanket up, curled on one end of the sofa.  </p>
<p>Madara huffed, mostly annoyed at himself, but then joined Hashirama on the sofa, under the covers, to watch the movie together snuggling in the warmth.</p>
<p>Most of the times, they ended up with Hashirama in a burrito of blankets and Madara resting against his side, holding each other.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Pizza, Pepsi and Princess Peach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Through all the years they’d known each other – first as friends, then as awkward sweethearts and finally as an adult couple – Thursday night had become pizza-and-game night. Hashirama really didn’t know where the tradition came from, and pinpointing the time it started was far too troublesome, so every Thursday he simply stood in line to pick up their pizzas and then headed home as fast as he could, to try and avoid eating cold pizza.</p>
<p>Madara had the game already set up, usually Mario Kart, so, when Hashirama toed off his shoes and walked in the living room, he had barely enough time to place the box of pizza on the coffee table and grab the controller Madara had tossed him.</p>
<p>They challenged each other well into the night, eating slices of pizza and swallowing down their sodas, laughing and, more often than not, ending up sleeping on the sofa in weird positions.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. How to date when you're thirty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>They didn’t often go on dates anymore. It wasn’t like their love was thinning or something along that line. It was just that, instead of dressing up, fussing about trying to find something meaningful or special to do, they preferred to spend their time together in other ways.</p>
<p>One of their musts was the Friday morning appointment with the crossword on the newspaper: during breakfast they both poured over the puzzle with knitted brows. Or, during the first week of spring, they always found time to sit down and plan their summer vacation.</p>
<p>There was to say that they still went on dates, occasionally, and when Madara could be bothered to actually dress up for something other than his job, when there was an interesting exposition around, or to the theatre, sometimes to the cinema with some or their many nephews, but, really, every time they were together still felt like a date.</p>
<p>They could do nothing but grin like fools to each other every time; at least Hashirama grinned, Madara just smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Public display of affection?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Contrary to popular belief, when it came down to it, Hashirama was the one who most pushed to respect PDA. If things were left to Madara he would just shrug one shoulder, in that unbothered and unconcerned and assholery way of his, and then proceed to molest Hashirama mindless of where they were.</p>
<p>Hashirama had early on in their relationship set very firm boundaries – with heavy repercussion if Madara so much as thought about pushing them. Even before completing his transition, Hashirama had been very strict about kissing in public, bordering on vetoing it.</p>
<p>Even so, Hashirama was always the first one to lean in and softly kiss Madara on the corner of his mouth every time they met outside. Usually, Madara pecked him right back on the cheek before mumbling grumpily. Hashirama still crackled with fond laugh every time.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Is that mine?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It had happened once, for accident. Hashirama had been running late and had grabbed blindly at a shirt, put that on and sprinted out of the house with a yelled goodbye. It had taken Hashirama nearly three hours to realize – after six very angry texts from Madara – that he had been wearing one of Madara’s shirt. The pale baby blue one Madara loved.</p>
<p>From then on it had been somewhat of a challenge to steal Madara’s clothes and wait until his pretty boyfriend realized what he had done.</p>
<p>Madara, on the other hand, was so not subtle. He paraded around showing off the fact that he was wearing Hashirama’s clothes like a proud peacock. Hashirama didn’t mind and rather enjoyed seeing his boyfriend with his clothes on, even if he so much more loved undressing him.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay, everybody! </p>
<p>I don't really have a satisfying explanation other than I had a really busy day yesterday - cutting and dyeing my hair took a lot of of me?! - but here it is in all its short glory!</p>
<p>I'll post two chaps today so the schedule will not be messed up!</p>
<p>Stay safe!</p>
<p>Lot of love,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chibi's power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>As a rule, Madara just did not. When his answer wasn’t a grunt, usually was no.</p>
<p>So, imagine Hashirama’s confusion, and clear disbelief, when he saw Madara – his boyfriend, who just did not, and whose answer, when not a grunt, was no – nodding and saying yes to little Fugaku’s request to dress up for Halloween.</p>
<p>Hashirama wasn’t one to believe in omens or divine intervention but he glanced upward waiting for a thunder to struck or something. When nothing happened, Hashirama just stared in amazed awe at a small, blushing, smiling Fugaku who just managed the impossible.</p>
<p>Who could have thought that all it would take was for a chibi nephew to ask to cosplay for Halloween for Madara to say yes?</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chibis' power 2.0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It was easy to say that Hashirama didn’t like shopping. And only because of the sheer chaos and mass of people milling around and buzzing with frenzied energy. He always felt like a spinning ball, rolling around without control.</p>
<p>That afternoon, however, Hashirama felt above everything, like floating around in his own bubble. It could have been for the impossible feat Fugaku had pulled two days before, or for Izuna’s quiet incredulity, or Madara’s silent presence at his side holding Fugaku’s small hand, or for Kushina’s tiny hand in his, but Hashirama felt calm.</p>
<p>When they finally, after hours of research, found the costumes the kids wanted, Hashirama discovered that he had, indeed, rather enjoyed the afternoon spent browsing shops in the mall.</p>
<p>Just what kind of power did those chibis have?</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Fries and friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It had never been a spoken rule but usually Sunday night was dedicated to hang out with their friends. More often than not they ended up in a pub nursing drinks and chatting away the last hours of freedom before Monday morning. Hashirama usually had to drag Madara away from the pub around a somewhat reasonable hour so they both would get enough sleep before starting with their week.</p>
<p>There had been a memorable occasion, on Hashirama twenty-ninth birthday, in which Hashirama had gotten so wasted that he had had to call in sick at work on Monday morning. That time, Madara had been the one to drag him out of the pub. Madara still teased Hashirama mercilessly about his antics while drunk. Hashirama didn’t appreciate it very much.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Blackmail material</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>There was only one copy of that photo and Izuna had been guarding it with ruthless care for three years. It was Hashirama most prized blackmail material, after all, even if he hadn't been the one to capture the moment. The picture showed Madara, twenty-eight at the time, making a silly face, with a big smile, at Inoichi, Shikaku and Choza, not even four years old yet; all three kids had big toothy grins and pink cheeks.</p>
<p>But the most endearing detail was that all four of them were wearing cat ears headbands. The ears were white and fluffy and stood out against the Madara’s and Shikaku’s dark hair, Inoichi’s were lost in his sunshiny mop and Choza’s were just drowned in his wild red mane. Choza was captured making paws motion with his small hands, Inoichi tentatively touching one of his fluffy ears while Shikaku was looking with a frown at Madara, who was smiling and at ease.</p>
<p>Hashirama loved that picture and if not for Madara’s desire to burn it down and dance on its ashes Hashirama would have it framed. But Madara, every time the photo was mentioned, became snippier and grumpier so Hashirama had just asked Izuna to guard it for him and Izuna had accepted wholeheartedly and teased Madara gently.</p>
<p>Kagami and his squad of mischiefs, the appointed babysitters for that day who had clearly ditched their duty, still owned all the copyrights on that picture.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Hashirama's lost dignity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>The situation could have been worst only if Hashirama had somehow managed to open the door wearing only his pink boxer, the one with the small smiling elephants printed all over. As it was, Hashirama just stared, dumbfounded, at the crackling hellspawns on his front porch. Then he leveled all of them with an unimpressed glare and ushered them inside.</p>
<p>The most mortifying thing, something Hashirama tried not to focus on and rather took in stride – because what else was he supposed to do – was that one of them – and Hashirama absolutely did not want to know who – tried to grab at his tail. Literally. The thing was, that Hashirama was wearing a green dragon kigurumi and the stuffed tail trailed behind him on the floor, apparently captivating at least one of the demon-in-human-form following him.</p>
<p>Hashirama sighed and started on the snacks the whole lot of minions would demand in few seconds, searching for his lost dignity. The still crackling shits – a mix of nephews, both Madara’s and his, with relatives and friends aging from 4 to 16  – had already scattered all over the kitchen and living room, chatting happily and making a home of his house.</p>
<p>Despite everything, Hashirama just grinned to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Public display of affection 2.0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>During their brothers’ flat’s inaugural party they had been caught making out hard, and slightly drunk, on the balcony like hormonal teenagers. Needless to say, Madara had growled at an inebriated Tobirama for interrupting them before resuming his activity. Hashirama had paid his brother no mind at all, appreciatively groping Madara’s ass and devouring his mouth.</p>
<p>When his brother had come back with their mothers in tow and a camera, Hashirama had dragged Madara out of the flat and back to their house where they had resumed their make out session on the sofa. They had ended asleep there, too tired, drunk and satisfied to move to their bed.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Frozen happiness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Hashirama leaned back, closed his right eye and pinched the bridge of his nose. Madara, by his side, huffed amused and exasperated. “You always do this.” Madara mumbled and Hashirama just whined pitifully trying to unfreeze his brain with sheer willpower alone.</p>
<p>Madara focused back on his ice-cream, eating it slowly one little spoon at the time like a prim and proper asshole, and Hashirama stared mournfully at his own bowl of iced happiness. It wasn’t making him very happy, at the moment. Hashirama pouted displeased and rubbed his temple before stabbing the minty, half finished mountain, with his small plastic spoon.</p>
<p>When his brain finally unfroze, Hashirama dug in happily, with childish glee, only to stop a mere second later when his left eye twitched for the cold. Madara just laughed loudly that time.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Izuna's idea of a party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Hashirama stared offended – and quite horrified – at the text Izuna had just sent him for three whole minutes. Then he dialed Madara’s number.</p>
<p>“I don’t care. Whatever it is this newest craziness is, Madara. I. Don’t. Care.” “<em>What.</em>” Hashirama huffed affronted and replied “Izuna. He’s planning a gender swap party. So. You can tell your own brother no or I can do it.” Hashirama ended the call before his boyfriend could even contemplate a reply and shoved his phone as deep as he could in his pocket. </p>
<p>He turned to glare at his brother, and Izuna’s boyfriend, and for once Tobirama was the one who gulped before holding up his hands, in a clearly placating way, and stating “I told Izuna it was a horrible idea but did he ever listen?”</p>
<p>Hashirama glared at his brother first and then down at his coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Izuna's idea of a party 2.0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>In the end, after a lot of consideration – and no small amount of pep talks in front of the bathroom’s mirror – Hashirama admitted, mostly to himself – and to his exasperated grumpy half, unwilling witness of all his madness – that he felt confident enough in his masculinity to dress like a girl for Izuna’s gender swap party, even if he did feel awkward and a bit uncomfortable given his past.</p>
<p>Luckily, with Madara by his side, Hashirama could relax at least a little, mostly because Madara was absolutely gorgeous in that extremely short black skirt and Hashirama was a bit competitive; the red leather skirt he had chosen really was a good match for his boyfriend’s sexy outfit. </p>
<p>Before leaving the house Madara had pressed against his back, all the same, and whispered hotly that he was divine in that clothing and that he would love him the same, as he had always done, no matter his gender. And Hashirama could live with that, admittedly.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Not a morning person</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Madara’s a very unhealthy habit of working well into the night was just one of his college years’ legacies. The other, more prominent one, was Madara’s less than unhappy relationship with mornings; simply put, Madara in the morning was not something anyone should face.</p>
<p>While Madara grumpily trudged out of bed, into the shower and then in the kitchen to have his two morning cups of coffee, Hashirama complained under his breath about the unfairness of life staring blearily at the open fridge looking for the meaning of life itself.</p>
<p>When the coffee kicked in, Hashirama transitioned from sleepily grumpy to happily relaxed and enjoyed the show of his boyfriend fighting against his clothes for dominance.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Making fun of ourselves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Madara stared incredulously at the matching tees Hashirama was showing him. He raised one questioning eyebrow before scowling. Just what had possessed his boyfriend to buy something like that? Hashirama, for his part, just grinned happily waving the tees in the air. Madara sighed.</p>
<p>The offending matching items were a pair of deep green t-shirts, at least two sizes bigger than usual, one reading ‘BIG SPOON AND LITTLE SPOON’ and the other ‘KNIFE’. If Madara was to be honest they were kind of silly and just Hashirama’s style and exactly what they needed to make fun of each other.</p>
<p>Hashirama tossed him the ‘KNIFE’ shirt before putting on his own and Madara shook his head before wearing the absurd thing. They took a selfie and Hashirama sent it to their whole family, even their high schooler nephews.</p>
<p>That night, Madara spooned Hashirama just to spite him.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Baking is for the strong willed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Something Hashirama and Madara didn’t usually do together was baking for the simple fact that Madara, strangely as it might sound, was a messy cook despite his more anal tidying tendencies. When faced with the task of baking, Madara loosed all kind of control and their kitchen became a post-apocalyptic zone with restricted signs hung on the walls.</p>
<p>That said, it wasn’t like they didn’t bake together. They did. Usually with Madara crazing his way through the recipe and Hashirama suffering alongside. They always ended up spending more time cleaning afterward than actually baking but Madara muttering the recipe under his breath all throughout the process was something so silly and endearing that Hashirama would never get tired of watching.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. A masterpiece</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>The first time Madara had seen Hashirama in a formal suit he had barely managed to avoid falling on his knees in worship. Hashirama had always been the jeans and sweatshirt kind of guy, more comfortable in slightly baggy clothes than anything else. Madara knew it had more to do with the other’s dysphoria than with some real issue with formal wears.</p>
<p>Hashirama had been breathtakingly beautiful that first time: the rich blue of the suit hugging his frame perfectly and the light blue of the shirt making his tanned skin stand out even more, the jacket showing his back and shoulders and Madara had been almost drooling at the sight of Hashirama’s ass.</p>
<p>Hashirama had always been a work of art, a masterpiece. But in formal wear he was something else. Madara would always savor the memory of Hashirama tentatively asking if he was alright, scared and hopeful at the same time.</p>
<p>Every time Hashirama wore a suit, still a special occasion, Madara made sure to let him know, in minute details and clear explanations, of how fucking beautiful he was and how much he loved him.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Not Hashirama's thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>When it came down to dancing Hashirama had two left feet. Madara, strangely enough, was a pretty fine dancer. Be it some slow, classic dance or jumping around in a disco, Madara was always graceful and cut a very good picture. Hashirama not so much.</p>
<p>Madara had tried to teach him but Hashirama had resigned himself to just swaying or moving his hips to the rhythm and even that wasn’t always as flawless as when Madara did so.</p>
<p>He liked to jump around in the kitchen when he cooked listening to some music and when no one was around to witness his performance. Hashirama didn’t know but Madara found it damn adorable.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. The show</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t like Hashirama couldn't cook, because he could. Cooking was one of the basic skills for existing like an actual human being, so of course Hashirama could cook. And he was pretty good at it. But. Watching Madara fuss over their dinner or experiment with new flavors or simply stand there in front of the stove making his magic was something Hashirama had always enjoyed.</p>
<p>There was something relaxed and at ease in Madara while he cooked and Hashirama had a front row seat every day. He usually perched in one of the breakfast stools and just watched the other dicing, seasoning, stirring, cutting or plating their dinner. They always shared a bottle of beer, sometimes one of Madara’s fancy wines, and while Madara cooked Hashirama told him about his day.</p>
<p>It was still one of Hashirama’s favorite thing in the world.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Fighting for a dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>The legal battle to have their right of adopting a baby recognized had been brutal and extenuating, both mentally and economically. The problem had never been to find a woman willing to carry their child but, as an homosexual couple and with Hashirama being a trans male, for both to be able to adopt the baby afterwards. Even with Madara, flanked by other lawyers, fighting his way through a maze of laws and legal bullshits, it has taken almost two years for them to finally have that right recognized.</p>
<p>Two years spent researching, strategizing and discussing about everything. Hashirama had lost count of how many nights and days he had spent listening to Madara practicing his speeches, or researching and studying laws and other legal forms, or filing away information, doing everything he could to help Madara in making their dream come true.</p>
<p>Madara had been fighting for them and their future and Hashirama had proudly been by his side for every step.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. How to fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It was a known fact that Hashirama was the one with the shortest temper. He exploded in fits of anger, loudly explaining why Madara was wrong and he was, in fact, right that usually lasted for about one hour. Then he stewed for the remaining of the day.</p>
<p>Madara was the one who kept quiet, bottling everything up until he literally exploded giving back as good as he got and loudly, but quieter than his boyfriend, showed how he was right and not, in fact, Hashirama. Then he silently sulked in the backyard or went for a jog.</p>
<p>When they argued they weren’t always loud, like that one time just out of college when Madara had been offered a very good job abroad. That had been one of the worst fights they had ever had, their relationship at stake. In that instance there had been a lot of moping, from both parts, and sulking, a lot of considerations and thinking involved and carefully planned occasions to talk about the situation that more often than not had ended with ugly, frustrated tears and harsh words thrown at each other.</p>
<p>But now, settled in their relationship and their lives, their arguing mostly involved what to have for dinner and who should go grocery shopping. Oh, they did argue about politics and their families and friends and their jobs, but compared to some fights they had when younger those arguments were a very small thing.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there! </p>
<p>I posted an original work today and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want! <br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. How to apologize</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It was also a known fact that Hashirama was always the first to apologize after a fight, not about his reasoning nor his words, but about how he had all but thrown a tantrum. When they were both calm and with their minds cleared they settled down in front of the dinner Hashirama had made and calmly explained what they had wanted to say.</p>
<p>Madara usually forgave first, beckoning Hashirama on the sofa and starting an impressive cuddling session. At that point Hashirama usually apologized for everything, even when he had been right all along, and Madara just rolled his eyes landing a kiss on his boyfriend’s hair.</p>
<p>Madara rarely apologized but every time he actually did Hashirama cherished the feeling and the truth in his words.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>I posted an original work today and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. A dream come true</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>The day of their child’s birth Hashirama and Madara had both been bundles of nerves. Madara had been silently pacing the waiting room while Hashirama had been stressing his fingers to the point of having his skin red and raw. When the nurse had come to tell them that their child was born Madara had nearly fainted. They had followed the nurse in a daze, holding hands and their breaths. Hashirama didn’t even remember if their family was there with them.</p>
<p>And then, they walked into the room and there was their child, and she was a girl, a small bundle of pink, the smallest thing Hashirama had even seen and someone was holding her out for him to take. Hashirama sat down, because his legs were weaker than overcooked noodles, and the nurse gently deposited their daughter, their baby girl, in his arms. Hashirama was vaguely aware of Madara, knelt by his side and gently cradling her small head in his palm, because he was holding their daughter for the first time.</p>
<p>And then she wailed softly once, and Hashirama gasped, before making a small perfect O with her small perfect mouth and falling asleep and Hashirama glanced at Madara and just exhaled slowly, not really believing that she was real.</p>
<p>Madara stared back for just a couple of seconds before going back to look at her, and the look in his eyes, that soft adoration, that complete devotion Hashirama saw there, was all he needed. Madara had looked at only two people like that before, his brother and him, and that look was now for their daughter, too, and Hashirama couldn’t have asked for something more perfect even if he had tried.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>I posted an original work today and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Petty but adorable Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>The day of Haruki’s miyamairi, Hashirama and Madara dressed up in their formal wears before fussing and cooing dressing their baby Queen in a soft pale green dress. She was so cute in her dress, with her matching socks and small hat, and she threw up on Madara’s shirt, so that he was forced to change into a clean one, right before leaving the house. At that point, Madara decided that he would be the one carrying her baby bag and all her stuff. </p>
<p>They met their friends and family in front of the shrine and every single one of them tried to hold her, much to her joy, at least once before the ceremony.</p>
<p>In the shrine, during the ceremony, she couldn’t stop giggling and gurgling excitedly, waving her small chubby limbs around from her position in the carrier across Hashirama’s chest and Hashirama spent most of the time cooing softly in her ear to calm her down.</p>
<p>She fell asleep, too tired from the day’s excitement, right when it was time to take some photos but Madara held her all the same, standing at Hashirama’s side. When she woke up Madara gave her the bottle and she threw up once more on his shirt. Hashirama grinned and laughed, delighted in his daughter’s antics.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>A tiny bit of info!</p>
<p>Miyamairi (宮参り, literally "shrine visit") is a traditional Shinto rite of passage in Japan for newborns. Approximately one month after birth (31 days for boys and 33 days for girls), parents and grandparents bring the child to a Shinto shrine, to express gratitude to the deities for the birth of a baby and have a shrine priest pray for his or her health and happiness. The practice is similar to a Christian infant baptism.</p>
<p>Today, most Miyamairi are practiced between one month and 100 days after birth. A Shinto priest wearing a costume and headgear appears between the group and the altar, reciting a prayer and swinging a tamagushi right and left. During the prayer, the priest cites the name of the baby, the names of the parents, the family's address, and the baby's birthday. Afterwards, the parents and grandparents come forward one by one, bow to the altar, and place tamagushis upon it.</p>
<p>At the end of the ceremony, sake in a red wooden cup is given to each person in attendance; small gifts are often given to the family.</p>
<p>(All of this, I learned from Wikipedia, so if it's incorrect please don't hesitate to tell me!)<br/>And!</p>
<p>I posted an original work today and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Queen's big day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Everything was ready for their baby Queen’s first birthday. Madara had crazed his way through the recipe for the most cute birthday cake ever made – a soft chocolate cake with pink raspberry buttercream and a gradient decorations, from deep pink to white, with gold, green and pink flowers and butterflies decorations – and Hashirama had decorated their living room and backyard with pink, green and gold balloons and everything a birthday party required.</p>
<p>Their Queen had spent the morning in the care of her grandparents – all four of them – who wouldn’t stop cooing and spoiling her much more than Hashirama and Madara already did and Hashirama missed her so much and couldn’t wait to have her back. He knew that their parents would steal her away if they could.</p>
<p>The party was a success. She was showered in presents and affection, kisses and belly rubs, everyone had fun and the food disappeared almost completely. Madara could actually start liking more than just Hashirama’s birthday from then on.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>I posted an original work and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Rubber frog and bubbles bath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Madara didn’t know what to expect when he came back home from work to weird noises. He opened the front door and was greeted by a silent house but from the noises coming from the general diction of the bathroom. He raised an eyebrow, suspicious and confused, and quietly pattered towards the direction of the noises only to be faced with the most ridiculous sight ever.</p>
<p>Hashirama was sitting inside the tub, his hair pinned in a messy bun with some damp strands stuck to the back of his neck, forehead and cheek, and making small croaking sounds while moving around a green rubber frog in a jumping motion. Haruki, their perfect baby Queen, was silently watching everything, big round black eyes fixed on the colorful frog in awe, and sitting in Hashirama’s lap, her back against his chest and soap bubbles in her hair and all around them.</p>
<p>Madara was able to take only one picture before bursting out laughing at how ridiculous Hashirama was. His daughter joined him with her perfect trilling giggles, Hashirama smiled happily and Madara gladly kneeled outside of the tub, not giving a single shit about his pants getting soaked in soapy water.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>I posted an original work and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Sweetest lullaby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Hashirama woke up to a cold bed and soft murmurings coming from deeper inside the house. He blinked sleepy before pattering towards the sound. It was a sweet lullaby and Hashirama smiled softly, following Madara’s voice.</p>
<p>In the living room Madara was standing, in only a pair of gym short hanging low on his hips, and gently rocking their daughter back to sleep. He was singing softly and their baby Queen was staring amazed and entranced up at her Daddy.</p>
<p>Hashirama leaned against the doorframe hugging his midriff and soaking in the sweet picture his daughter and her father made.</p>
<p>Haruki blinked and yawned and Madara cooed softly “Yeah, you’re tired. Go to sleep, Queen. C’ mon.”</p>
<p>It was the sweetest thing Hashirama had ever seen and luckily for him, Madara was showing his soft side more often now that they had their baby girl in their life.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there!</p>
<p>I posted an original work and here's the link!<br/>Check it out if you want!<br/>I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080934</p>
<p>Hope you're doing fine!</p>
<p>Until next time,</p>
<p>-Hh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Big enough bathtub</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“Are you serious?” Madara nodded and Hashirama lowered himself in the hot water of their bathtub with a moan a second later. That was unbelievable, almost heaven. Hashirama stretched his arms along the rim and tilted his head backward to stare at the ceiling. He felt Madara move his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position for the both of them, and Hashirama closed his eyes to enjoy that small slice of paradise, Madara’s quiet moan in his ears.</p>
<p>“How long?” Hashirama whispered after what felt like an year. Madara made a small questioning noise and Hashirama elaborated “Till they’re back.” “A couple hours.” Hashirama wriggled a bit and lowered himself deeper in the water, murmuring “If I fall asleep don’t let me drown.” before relaxing completely now that he could. Their parents wouldn’t bring Haruki back for an hour, at the very least, and that alone sounded like a dream, but Madara rubbing his calves while they both soaked in the tube was even better.</p>
<p>Hashirama moaned softly when Madara’s wandering hands reached his thighs and he opened his eyes to stare at his lover and father of their daughter hungrily. Madara licked his lips and Hashirama mirrored him.</p>
<p>They never made it to the bedroom, that time.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Everyone! </p><p>This is the end of this journey! I’m a bit sad!</p><p>I want to thank you all for the unconditional support and love you showed me: THANK YOU SO SO MUCH, YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH THAT MEANT TO ME. </p><p>I really hope you are alright and well, wherever you are around the globe, but please keep taking care of yourselves!</p><p>I send you my love!</p><p>Until next time,</p><p>-Hh</p><p>-</p><p>#NoBetaWeDieLikeShinobi</p><p>-Hh</p></blockquote></div></div>
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